


By the Book

by etamiss



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Awkward Flirting, Dorks in Love, F/M, First Time, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4573728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etamiss/pseuds/etamiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Pentaghast is blunt, efficient and terrifying. Alistair is a little bit in love with her. [Modern day cop AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the Book

The first Alistair hears about Detective Pentaghast is when Bethany throws a tiara at him.

"Shit," she says around a mouthful of cake. "It's the Seeker."

Across the room, Anders quickly closes the six tabs of cat videos he has open on his computer. Cullen straightens up, neatening the closest pile of paperwork, and Isabela looks up from her phone for maybe five seconds before shrugging and returning to her usual activities.

Before Alistair can ask what a seeker is or why he's holding a tiara, the door to the precinct swings open and a tall, dark-haired woman comes storming through. She's incredibly terrifying and incredibly attractive and when she stops at his desk, Alistair is having serious difficulty separating the two.

"Where is Captain Vallen?"

Her accent is thick and Nevarran and does nothing to negate either of Alistair's primary reactions. However, the need to be helpful soon kicks in and he summons a smile as he says, "She's, uh…"

Belatedly, he realises he has no idea where the captain is.

"She's certainly around here somewhere?" he says hopefully.

The woman raises an eyebrow. Alistair dies a little inside.

"Detective Pentaghast," Cullen says, coming to his rescue. "The captain's in interrogation room three. She brought in Tethras twenty minutes ago."

"Thank you, Sergeant," Pentaghast says with a nod. Her gaze sweeps around the room before landing on Bethany, who swallows down the rest of her cake in an awkward gulp. "I take it you haven't heard from your brother, Detective Hawke?"

"He sent me a text last week saying he was in Reno," Bethany offers. "So he's definitely not in Reno." Pentaghast narrows her eyes and Bethany adds, "But I haven't heard anything since then. You'll be the first to know if I do, Seek- Detective."

She doesn't mention the picture Hawke sent earlier that morning of himself high-fiving the mascot of a taco joint. Alistair thinks that's probably a sensible decision.

Pentaghast makes a barely concealed noise of distaste but continues her scan of the bullpen. Anders and Isabela escape without sanction but her eyebrow creeps up again when she looks down at Alistair's lap.

"Is that a tiara?"

"What?" He looks down to see the forgotten tiara twinkling in his lap and promptly covers it with his hands in embarrassment. "Ah. Yes. This is..."

Behind Pentaghast's back, Bethany is miming something which looks a lot like square dancing.

"…evidence?" Alistair guesses. "We took it from a… large bear."

Bethany scowls and mimes with more vigour.

"A visiting princess," Alistair amends. "She was doing something illegal and we confiscated her tiara because we're the police so now I'm taking it down to evidence for safe-keeping."

If he sounds a little triumphant at making it to the end of that sentence, Pentaghast doesn't comment on it.

"I see," she says instead. "I should let you get back to work then." She glances around the bullpen. "Detectives, Sergeant. Excuse me."

She heads off, just as determined as before, and Alistair hears more than one person exhale in relief when the door to the interrogation rooms slams shut behind her.

"Thank the Maker," Cullen mutters as Alistair looks between him and Bethany in confusion.

"Who was that?"

"Cassandra Pentaghast," Cullen says, pouring what has to be his fifth cup of coffee of the day. Alistair is a little concerned about him. "She's a detective from Major Crimes."

Across the room, Anders reloads his cat livestream of choice. "She only comes down here when she's looking for Hawke."

"Which is all the time," Cullen says with a sigh. "Technically Hawke is undercover in her unit."

Alistair frowns. "Technically?"

Cullen takes a long drink of coffee. "Hawke seems to forget this with impressive regularity. Last time I think she found him having a sword fight on a mountain."

"Shirtless," Isabela adds with a pleased sigh. "In the rain."

"That's how she got the nickname," Bethany says, retrieving the tiara and repositioning it on her head. "She's like a human homing missile. It's terrifying."

"Very terrifying," Alistair says, rubbing the back of his neck as he stares at the closed door. "I, uh- I didn't realise she would be so striking."

Cullen immediately refills his coffee. "Maker preserve us."

"What?"

"No," Bethany says, pointing her finger at him firmly. "You are not allowed to fancy the Seeker."

"I- I don't-" Alistair splutters. "That's preposterous. How could you-"

Anders looks at him with undisguised pity. "Please don't do this to yourself."

"That-"

"She'd eat you alive," Isabela says cheerfully. She props her boots up on the desk as Alistair fumbles for another protest but he runs out of excuses when she looks over at him with a grin. "Please make sure I'm there to watch."

 

 

+++

 

 

"Theirin, how many times do we need to have this conversation?" Coffee jitters are apparently kicking in when Cullen looks up at him with a scowl. "No-one needs that much strudel. Or any strudel, really."

"It was on sale," Alistair says, cradling his bag of strudel closer. "Bodahn gave me two for one on the first sixteen!"

Across the room, Isabela empties the rest of a bag of trail mix into her mouth and says between chews, "You have a problem."

"Fine," Alistair mutters. "Maybe Detective Pentaghast would like some strudel."

Behind him, Cullen makes a small pained noise but Alistair ignores it as he crosses the bullpen.

Much to his delight (and Bethany's despair), Pentaghast stuck around once she and the Captain finished interrogating Tethras, setting herself up in the break room with a stack of paperwork. The others have so far given her a wide berth but when Alistair pokes his head around the door, he finds himself genuinely excited about seeing her face again.

(In his defence, it is a truly excellent face.)

"Detective Pentaghast? I thought you might-"

He stops in his tracks when he sees Pentaghast scramble to sit upright from where she has her leg tucked underneath her. There's a book open on the table, which she shoves under a pile of papers, and her reflexes are just fast enough to stop her knocking over a steaming mug of tea.

"Detective," she says, smoothing down her uniform. "I didn't hear you knock."

Alistair knew he'd forgotten something.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he says, neatly avoiding the topic of who did or didn't knock. "I'm Detective Theirin. I work with Sergeant Cullen."

"Ah, yes," Pentaghast says. "With the tiara."

"That's me," Alistair says cheerfully. "Mr Tiara." He pauses to reconsider that choice. "Or a different, more masculine nickname."

Brandishing the bag of food as a distraction, he says, "I just wanted to see if you wanted a snack? I picked up some strudel at lunch and since everyone has now decided they hate the stuff, I figured you might be hungry."

Pentaghast's brow creases in confusion. "How can anyone hate strudel?"

"Right? I mean, it's sticky and delicious, and it has just the right amount of sugar to it." There's a tiny smile on Pentaghast's lips and Alistair rubs the back of his neck when he feels his face turn red. "I may be quite fond of strudel."

"In that case, I appreciate the offer to share," Pentaghast says. "What flavour is it?"

"Oh. Apricot," Alistair says, holding out the bag. "Sometimes I like a change from apple."

His eyes linger on Pentaghast's lips for a moment too long when she bites into the pastry but he smiles at her murmur of approval.

"That's certainly a good change," she says, licking sugar from the corner of her mouth. "Thank you."

"You're welcome!" It's said with a little too much enthusiasm and he dials it back as he asks, much more smoothly, "So how did the interrogation go with Varric? Did he tell you where Hawke went?"

"No. Varric was infuriatingly vague, as always. All we know is that Hawke is still investigating a drag-racing ring." She purses her lips. "He has apparently found an elf."

Judging by her tone, this is not something Hawke should have found. Alistair decides not to pursue it further.

"I'm sure you'll find him soon," he says. He's pretty sure it doesn't come across as patronising but he changes the subject just to make sure. "I'm sorry if I interrupted your break, by the way. Were you reading anything good?"

"What?" Pentaghast sounds downright guilty as she shuffles some papers. "No, I- I was just doing some research. For a case."

The stack of papers slips to the side and Alistair blinks in surprise when he sees the familiar book cover poking out from beneath them. "Is that Swords and Shields?"

"Is it?" A flustered blush paints her cheeks as she stammers, "I mean, yes. I was interrogating Varric and I thought I should read his novel. For clues."

"Or for fun," Alistair says, beaming. "They're really good books. Have you read the latest one? It wasn't quite as bloody as Duel of Passion but I liked what happened with the pirate captain. She-"

"Don't tell me!" Pentaghast interrupts. Her shoulders slump as she pushes the papers aside to reveal Love's Plunder, the latest book in the Swords and Shields series. "I'm only a few chapters in."

"In that case my lips are sealed," Alistair says with a smile. "I hope you like it -- it's one of the best ones the series as far as I'm concerned."

Pentaghast's gaze is softer when she looks at him afresh. "You read romance novels?"

"I read most things," Alistair admits. "I like Varric's crime serials too and his sci-fi works but there's something nice about the romance series. It makes you feel like everything could work out in the end, you know? If the assassin with the shady past can find love, maybe there's hope for the rest of us."

As he finishes, he realises that was probably too much information to share with a notably scary colleague but there's a small smile on Pentaghast's lips when she says, "Quite."

"I, uh- I'm Alistair, by the way," he says, holding out his hand. He's already sailed past the bounds of propriety -- he figures he should keep going and hope he doesn't get horribly shipwrecked on the rocks of rejection. (In retrospect, he may have read Love's Plunder too many times.) "It's good to meet you."

He refrains from doing a triumphant jig when she takes his offered hand. "Cassandra Pentaghast." Her smile broadens and she sounds entirely sincere when she says, "It's good to meet you too."

 

 

+++

 

 

"If I tell you something," Alistair says, "do you promise not to make fun of me for it?"

Across the table, Isabela takes another sip of beer. "Absolutely not."

"You should tell us anyway," Zevran says with a grin. "Make us feel better about our lives."

Alistair scowls at him and then scowls harder when none of the rest of the table come to his defence. He doesn't usually mind when Isabela brings her friends along for after work drinks -- as civilian administrator to the Kirkwall PD, she enjoys a slightly less law-abiding friendship circle than the rest of them -- but it would be nice if the actual cops in the room occasionally took his side.

"I'm glad to know I'm just here as a source of mockery," he mutters into his drink. "I feel so welcome."

"Don't be silly," Bethany says with sympathy. "Sometimes you're nice to look at too."

Sometimes the brother-sister resemblence is uncanny.

"Fine," Alistair says, taking another gulp of beer for courage. "It's not like there's anything to be ashamed of-"

Isabela sits straighter, eyes lighting up. "Are you coming out?"

"What? No!"

Isabela deflates. "Are you sure?" she says. "There's a guy I've been wanting to set you up with. He's kind of uptight, very moral -- you'd be great together."

"I am not dating your friend," Alistair says firmly. "Besides, I'm already seeing someone." He pauses. "Will be seeing someone. I have a date tomorrow."

"Ooh," Bethany says, leaning in, "who's the lucky lady?"

Alistair takes a deep breath. "Cassandra."

He's met with blank faces.

"Pentaghast," he adds lamely. "From work."

Bethany's mouth falls open. "The Seeker?"

"You're kidding," Anders says, trying and failing not to laugh. "Please tell me you're kidding. You're dating the Seeker?"

"How did you even get her to agree to that?" Isabela asks, stunned. "Was she drunk? Were _you_ drunk?"

"No-one was drunk!" Alistair says. He can feel himself blushing pink but can do nothing to stop it. "We ended up talking for a while this afternoon and it turns out we have a lot in common. She's a very nice person."

On the other side of the table, Anders dissolves into laughter. Bethany can't do much more than stare, stunned, and so it's left to Zevran to pat Alistair on the arm. "Congratulations, my friend. I'm sure she's a lovely woman."

"Thank you," Alistair says proudly. "She is. We actually-"

"Oh, oh!" Isabela interrupts. "Please make sure I'm there when you tell Cullen."

Anders laughs harder, barely staying on his chair. Bethany lets out an undignified snort but recovers enough to give him a smile. "I'm sure you'll have a great time," she says. "Who knows, maybe you'll be perfect for each other."

"Maybe we will," Alistair agrees. Vague approval from two out of four seems like an acceptable outcome and he pushes himself to his feet as he says, "Thank you for your support."

"I'm sorry," Isabela says, getting herself back under control. "It was just unexpected. I'm sure it'll go great."

"It will," Alistair says with confidence. "I like dates." Bethany raises an eyebrow and he admits, "All right, I haven't been on very many dates but when I have, I've liked them."

"Aww," Isabela says, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "You'll get there, sweetheart. I'm sure you two will have fun."

Buoyed by the (measured) enthusiasm, Alistair smiles. "We will." He smoothes down his hair and surveys the table. "Another round? I have some questions about where I should take her."

He's met with nods and smirks and as he heads off to the bar to refresh everyone's drinks, he's satisfied that, with a couple more hours of tips and advice, he will perform admirably on his date tomorrow.

Unfortunately, Hawke chooses that exact moment to not only reappear in Kirkwall but to crash a car through the wall of the Hanged Man.

The night only goes downhill from there.

 

 

+++

 

 

He's fifteen minutes late to dinner the next night.

Cassandra is waiting at the table, lips pursed in impatience and bread roll already in pieces on her side plate, and Alistair is seriously considering dropping to his knees in apology when he finally jogs up to the table. "I'm so sorry!"

Cassandra looks distinctly unimpressed and he hovers by the table as he explains, "I promise I'm usually very punctual but my dog, he's a bit of an escape artist, which is almost impressive when you consider how chunky he is. But he got out and took my phone with him and there's this little place in the bushes he likes to hide and-" He pauses for breath. "I'm really sorry."

"I was close to leaving," Cassandra admits, "but you're here now." She glances down at her side plate. "Also I already started the bread."

"It's all yours," Alistair says, taking his seat. "Compensatory bread is the least I can do. Oh, and flowers." He holds out a small bouquet of roses. "I was going to ask the team what your favourites were but a lot happened before I could get to that question."

"Roses are lovely," Cassandra says, taking the flowers with a smile. "Thank you." Her smile fades as she looks at Alistair's hand. "Are you injured?"

"Oh! Yes." He wiggles the two fingers that have been taped together. It's not a pleasant feeling. "There was a bit of trouble at the bar. Some wires got crossed -- I ended up in a scuffle with Hawke's boyfriend and managed to break my finger before we could get things straightened out." He gives a little shrug. "He's pretty strong for an elf."

He's confused when Cassandra's eyebrows inch higher. He knows for a fact that she's heard about Hawke's fleeting reappearance but her displeasure is soon explained when she asks, "Wait, the elf is Hawke's boyfriend? He's supposed to be arresting him!"

Alistair gulps. "Did I say boyfriend? I meant friend. Acquaintance. Random criminal who happened to be in the same car at the same time."

Cassandra hums in suspicion but Alistair breathes a sigh of relief when she lets the matter drop.

"So," he says. He almost asks how her week has been before remembering that Hawke showed up at the precinct earlier in the day without the elf he was supposed to be arresting but with a pet iguana named Nancy.

Reaching for the menu, Alistair decides to go with a different subject. "What looks good?"

The conversation as they order is stilted at best and when Cassandra eases the wine list out of his hands to make a more informed decision, Alistair is beginning to think that this date was not his best idea.

From the way she's fidgeting in her chair, Cassandra is clearly having similar feelings and so Alistair retreats back to common ground when he asks, "Did you get chance to finish Love's Plunder?"

The lingering tension dissolves when Cassandra lapses into a smile. "Not yet. I just finished the part where the pirate queen duelled the minotaur to rescue her prince."

"That was so good!" Alistair says with a matching grin. "Although, cards on the table, I was a little concerned she would end up with the minotaur at one point."

"The pirate and the minotaur? Really?"

"There was a lot of sexual tension," Alistair insists. "It was a natural suspicion."

Cassandra laughs. "I'll take your word for it. Personally I had an inkling about the first mate."

Alistair leans in. "What, that he would bed the captain or that he would betray her?"

"Both," Cassandra says firmly. "He seemed dashing but extremely untrustworthy."

"Nice instincts," he says with a whistle. "No wonder you're so good at this job."

Cassandra shakes her head with a smile. "I did used to pursue criminals," she says, "but Hawke was more difficult to find so I was reassigned. I always did enjoy a challenge."

"I can see that," Alistair says, "although it's good to know you're not quite as intimidating as you seem. I mean, reading Swords and Shields…"

"I would prefer if you kept that information to yourself," Cassandra says, cheeks flushing pink. "It's not something I choose to share with everyone."

"Oh, of course," Alistair says. He mimes zipping up his lips, then locking them, then throwing away the key. It's therefore a bit awkward when he opens his mouth to talk again, "I just think it's neat that you've got a romantic side to you, that's all."

"And what's wrong with that?" Cassandra asks. "I can be competent and professional and still enjoy romance."

"Nothing, nothing," Alistair says quickly. "It's good! I'm the same." He takes a sip of water. "Well, the competent part may be debatable but I appreciate romance. At least in novels." He coughs awkwardly. "Full disclosure: I haven't had that much romantic success in my love life. Or any success. Of any kind."

"Success- Oh!" Her brows draw in as she looks at him with surprise. "Oh. Are you waiting for marriage?"

"Nope."

"How old are-"

"Twenty-five." He picks sadly at his bread and decides it was a good idea to attempt this hurdle early on. "It wasn't through lack of desire on my part. Circumstances sort of conspired against me and I- I wanted it to be special. Not like on a bed of roses with an accompanying brass band or anything, just with someone I really cared about."

He risks a glance at Cassandra who is looking at him thoughtfully. "And now you think I'm unhinged. Great."

"I don't think you're unhinged," she says, smiling. "A little upfront, perhaps, but I can sympathise. I had one partner for a long time but since then I've been more focused on my career than romance."

"It's a great career," Alistair offers. "I can respect that."

The smile she gives him is surprising and delightful in equal measure. "I suppose you at least understand the hours."

"And the pressure," Alistair agrees.

"And the occasional unpleasantness."

"And the desire to sneak away to read Varric's books in the break room."

Cassandra laughs at that, leaning back in her chair as the waiter arrives with the wine. "Varric must never find out. We would lose all credibility."

"I don't think I have much credibility to start with," Alistair admits. "He happened to be there I ripped my trousers jumping a fence."

"Please tell me you were wearing underwear."

"I was," he says, "but there were goldfish on it, so I don't think it really helped my case."

She laughs again and despite the embarrassment, Alistair can't help but smile as he lifts his wine glass. "To romance?" he offers.

"And to maintaining dignity," Cassandra says.

She's smiling as they clink their glasses together and when Alistair takes a generous gulp, he can't help his surge of optimism at his prospects on both counts.

(He's wearing much more respectable underwear tonight.)

 

 

+++

 

 

In hindsight, Alistair decides that humming _Walking on Sunshine_ on his way into the precinct wasn't the best way to make a lowkey entrance.

With an enthusiasm never applied to her actual work, Isabela is at his desk before he's even taken his jacket off, watching him with suspicion. "Someone's cheerful this morning."

"I'm always cheerful," Alistair points out. "Happy to be detecting, that's me."

Behind him, Cullen makes a noise of disapproval. (He hadn't taken the news of the date well.)

Isabela just rolls her eyes. "Ignore our fearless leader. He's never happy to do anything. You, on the other hand, seem extra perky today. No-one is that excited about this job."

Alistair tries for casual. "Maybe I just had a really good sleep last night. I got one of those pillow-top mattress last month-"

Sticking his head up over the partition, Anders holds up a hand. "Please don't get him started on mattresses. I had to listen to the commentary when he did his online shopping -- I don't want to relive that."

Isabela eyes him again. "Or is it that you weren't the only one who got to try out your mattress last night?"

"You caught me," Alistair says. "Warburton is very bad at staying off the bed."

"Your dog is bad at everything," Anders mutters from behind his monitor.

"I'm not talking about the dog," Isabela says. "How did your date with the Seeker go last night? Did she tie you to a chair and interrogate you for all the details of the TV shows you illegally downloaded?"

"I don't illegally download anything," Alistair says. "I'm a cop."

Bethany makes a non-committal noise. Alistair ignores her.

"But no," he says, "there was no chair tying or interrogation. We had a lovely, civilised date."

"And then some lovely, civilised sex?"

"No!" Alistair says primly. "It was only our first date!"

Isabela looks at Bethany in despair. "This is painful. It's like watching two cups of vanilla pudding fall in love."

"I like vanilla pudding," Cullen says absently.

Isabela rolls her eyes. "So give us the details," she says. "Did you find out any fun facts about the Seeker?"

"Like if she's actually human?" Anders adds.

"Of course she's human," Alistair says, sitting down in his chair and elbowing Isabela out of the way. "We had a very nice evening with some really great conversation."

"Conversation?" Bethany asks. "Really?"

"That's all you're getting from me," Alistair says. "I'm a gentleman. I don't gossip about people I like."

"You gossip about us all the time," Anders says.

"Well, maybe that should tell you something," Alistair says with a smirk. "But I'm serious, guys. I'm not talking about this."

"But we need-"

Isabela's plea tapers off when the door opens and Cassandra comes strolling in. She's back in work mode, suited and booted and still impossibly attractive, and Alistair fights to keep the smile off his face when she stops at his desk. "I'm looking for the captain."

"Detective Pentaghast," Cullen says with a nod. "Captain Vallen is in her office."

"You sure you're not looking for someone else, Detective?" Isabela asks with a grin. "Like maybe someone dumber and blonder?"

"I'm not dumb!" Alistair protests before pausing. "I mean, uh-"

Cassandra's gaze flits between the group of them before landing on Alistair. "I take it they are aware of our… courtship."

Ignoring the sound of Bethany choking on her donut, Alistair looks up at Cassandra. "They're detectives?" he says hopefully. "Also Isabela. But yes. They may possibly be aware."

Cassandra's eyes narrow. For a long, horrible moment, Alistair thinks she's going to break up with him, to end this before it even really gets going, but he blinks when she just shrugs. "I suppose I can live with that. I'll see you on Saturday?"

"What?" Sense eventually overpowers surprise and he stammers, "I, uh- Yes! I'll see you Saturday."

Nodding in approval, she heads over to Captain Vallen's office, leaving the rest of them staring after her. It's only when Isabela whistles at him that Alistair realises just how much he's smiling.

"Maker's balls." Isabela sounds almost impressed when she says, "You're actually dating the Seeker. She actually likes you."

"I'm a very likeable person," Alistair says.

"Apparently." She stares at the captain's office door. "I didn't know she even felt emotions other than mild disgust."

"I think it's sweet," Bethany says, finishing off her donut and stealing a handful of Isabela's trail mix. "What are you doing on Saturday?"

"Dinner," Alistair says. "We're booked in at Balls to the 'Wall beforehand."

"You're going _bowling_?" Isabela says in disbelief. "I thought people only went on bowling dates in documentaries about abstinence."

Anders nods in agreement. "Or about serial killers."

"Ignore them," Bethany says, cuffing Anders around the back of the head. "You do whatever you like, Theirin."

"You're dating the Seeker," Isabela says. "Detective 'Ugh' Pentaghast is willingly going out with you. On a second date. To a bowling alley." She looks at Anders. "Did I hit my head? Hold up some fingers, let me check."

Anders holds up one particular finger and Alistair nudges Isabela away from his desk with a smirk. "Don't you have work to do?"

"Rarely if ever," Isabela says honestly. She claps him on the shoulder as she walks away, calling back, "Good luck handling your balls on Saturday!"

Shaking his head, Alistair boots up his computer as Bethany tuts at Isabela. "Is that honestly the best you could do? That was weak."

"It's _bowling_." Isabela says it as though the word causes her physical pain. "Even my innuendo has limits."

 

 

+++

 

 

As it turns out, there is no inappropriate ball handling on their second date. Their third to sixth dates are equally chaste and while their seventh and eighth are slightly less restrained, it's only on their ninth date that Alistair finds himself standing inside Cassandra's apartment for the first time.

His lips are still tingling from the kiss on the doorstep -- Cassandra's enthusiasm for kissing is only matched by her enthusiasm for crime-solving (and occasionally for whac-a-mole) -- and Alistair is still slightly dazed as he toes his shoes off.

"I'm sorry about the mess," Cassandra says, straightening a pile of magazines in her otherwise spotless lounge. "I wasn't planning on this."

"Are you kidding? It looks great," Alistair says, looking around in awe. He wonders if this is what his place could look like if Warburton hadn't eaten everything dog height (and beyond). "And it doesn't smell of dog so it's a giant step up from my place."

Smiling, Cassandra heads through to the kitchen and Alistair scopes the place out further when he hears the tap running. There are poetry books on the shelves, some of which he recognises, and he spots the bouquet of tulips he brought to date seven sitting next to her television. His attention is caught, however, by the large tapestry of a charging horse hanging above her couch and he moves in close to get a better look.

"Ah," Cassandra says from behind him and Alistair turns around to see her with a glass of water in hand. "I forget how noticeable that is sometimes."

"It's… very impressive," Alistair says, spotting the phalanx of horse figurines lining her windowsill.

Her posture shifts a little and he can hear the defensiveness before she even speaks. "I like horses."

"Understandable," Alistair says, approaching with a smile. "Horses are great."

Cassandra looks unconvinced. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No, no," he says quickly. "I actually have a similar tapestry at home. Of my dog."

Cassandra's eyebrow lifts.

"I really like dogs," Alistair says. "Also he looks very majestic as a tapestry. Noble. Inspirational."

"Is this the same dog who got his head stuck in a toy castle?"

"That's the one," Alistair says cheerfully.

Shaking her head, Cassandra sets her water down as she moves in for a kiss. Her lips taste of sugar and apple, the lingering remnants of their strudel dessert, and Alistair rests his hands on her hips, broken finger still taped in place, when she says, "You are a very strange man."

Alistair grins. "You know it may be too late to change me now?"

Her arms loop around his neck as she steps in closer. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

She closes the distance with a kiss again and Alistair is more than happy to yield as she eases past the barrier of his lips. She's warm against him, long fingers raking through his hair, and as her tongue slides against his, he can't keep from wondering just how far this night will go.

He must tense or hesitate somehow because Cassandra looks at him with concern when she pulls back. "Is this all right?" she asks. "I don't want to rush you, especially when-"

Alistair puts on a teasingly deep voice. "I've never known the touch of a woman?"

He regrets that decision as soon as he finishes the sentence and clears his throat with a smile. "Sorry. Too many romance novels. I'm good to go, I promise."

Cassandra's hand settles on his chest and Alistair tries not to focus too much on the brush of her fingers against his collarbone when she asks, "Are you sure?"

"I'm very sure," he says. "The surest. At peak 'sure' capacity." Her hair tickles his nose as he whispers in her ear, "Think of me as the innocent new sailor being willingly seduced by the beautiful pirate queen."

He presses his lips to her neck, working his way down with slow, gentle kisses, and he smiles when Cassandra shivers against him with a pleased hum. "I never expected to approve of piracy."

"If it helps," Alistair says, kissing her on the cheek, "I'm very in favour of being ravished."

Cassandra laughs. "Oh, really?"

"Of course." He ducks his head in a playful bow. "My honour is at your disposal, my captain."

There's an amused glint in Cassandra's eyes when he straightens back up but her lips find his before Alistair can comment on it. He lets out a muffled grunt of surprise when she walks him the two steps backwards until his back collides with the wall but any noises soon turn to ones of enjoyment when Cassandra deepens the kiss, tugging his head back a little further and curling her tongue against his.

They're both smiling when they break for air and Alistair isn't sure whether it's arousal or literary enthusiasm that's fuelling him when he says, "Should we, uh, retire to your quarters, captain?"

Cassandra's smile turns mischievous and when she moves in again, Alistair is completely on board for anything that might follow.

 

 

+++

 

 

Over the years, Alistair has had a lot of romantic fantasies about his first time.

They've ranged from a slow, steamy encounter in the backseat of a car to tearing each other's clothes off and going at it against the nearest flat surface in a fit of passion but being physically carried into the bedroom by his girlfriend is definitely a new one.

He has zero complaints.

 

 

+++

 

 

Somehow, everyone knows.

Alistair suspects telepathy, particularly when he's greeted by a resounding golf clap from Isabela, Anders and Bethany. However, as they circle up around his desk, he's surprised to find himself faced with fond pride rather than outright mockery of his situation.

(That doesn't make it any less embarrassing though.)

"I take it the date went well," Isabela says with a grin. She takes a sip of coffee while Bethany adds an unholy amount of sugar to hers. "I mean, I'm assuming you and the Seeker are still on speaking terms."

Alistair thinks back to that morning, to Cassandra sprawled contentedly across him in bed as they debated whether the enigmatic courtesan should end up with the Chantry sister or the misunderstood thief in Varric's latest novel.

"Very much so."

"And she didn't immediately break up with you for taking her on a date to a accordion festival?" Anders asks.

Alistair shakes his head. "We had a lot of fun at AccordiCon."

Bethany beams. "Well, clearly you're just meant to be."

They fall suspiciously silent, all taking a sudden interest in their coffee when Cassandra walks past, deep in conversation with the captain.

Alistair listens in, more for entertainment than anything else -- apparently Hawke managed to set fire to three and a half buildings last night while rescuing the elf from a rival street-racing gang -- but he catches Cassandra's eye as she pauses at the door. Her lips curve in a fleeting smile and they exchange very professional nods before she disappears down to the interrogation rooms once again.

"Amazing," Isabela says as soon as the door closes. She looks over to Anders. "Do you think they give out awards for the most respectable couple in Thedas? I feel like we should look into that on their behalf."

"Hey, we're not _that_ respectable," Alistair says out of habit, before realising what he's trying to argue. "Wait…"

Bethany laughs as she straightens his collar. "That's not a bad thing. You're like the couple I'd want to introduce to my parents to prove I have classy friends."

Isabela frowns. "Is this why you've never introduced me and Zevran to your parents?"

"I mean, I think Zevran still works for the mob," Bethany says, "but yeah, mostly the classy thing."

Isabela shrugs. "I can live with that."

"We're not meeting your parents," Alistair interjects before either of them can get too many ideas. "I've not even met Cassandra's parents yet."

"Oh, it's Cassandra now, is it?" Anders teases.

Alistair despairs a little. "You know that's her name, yes? What did you think we called each other?"

"Detectives Theirin and Pentaghast," Isabela says as though it's obvious. "Maybe even 'ma'am' on occasion."

"I do not call my girlfriend 'ma'am'!"

"But you've absolutely thought about it," Anders says with a grin.

Alistair huffs out a sigh. "I'm not talking about this anymore."

"Thank the Maker," Cullen mutters from behind them. "I suppose it's too much to ask that any of you do some actual work?"

"Come on, Sergeant," Bethany says, taking a sip of coffee, "it's not every day one of our own becomes half of the most painfully upstanding couple in the city."

"We're not that upstanding," Alistair says. "We're just normal people, doing normal people things."

"Bullshit," Isabela says, heading back over to her chair. "You'll be the golden couple of the Kirkwall PD by the time this gets out."

"So by about 3pm," Anders adds.

"I mean, come on," Isabela says. "Have either of you done anything which wasn't one hundred percent by the book?"

Remembering their very satisfying renactment of a scene from Love's Plunder the previous evening, Alistair finds himself smiling as he says, "Nope."

Isabela blinks at the admission and Alistair says with a shrug, "Doing things by the book works really, really well for us."

"I'm glad," Bethany says, stealing the remaining half of Anders' muffin on her way back to her desk. "We're happy for you, Theirin. Really."

As he settles at his own desk, Alistair struggles to keep his smile off his face -- intense grinning is probably not the best approach to take when interviewing murder suspects. However, there's only so much solemnity he can manage when he gets to see Cassandra again in just ten short hours and, not for the first time, he marvels a little at how he got to this point.

He wonders if he should send Varric a fruit basket to say thank you.


End file.
